Goodnight rambles

I left my journal at home so for the next couple weeks I will be substituting this blog in place of my confidential piece of paper that usually rests by my bed.

Coming back to school has felt different this time. As excited as I was and continue to be about seeing my friends, adjusting has been difficult. I almost feel like I'm waiting for something that keeps getting closer. Maybe it's the anticipation of classes, meetings, or work...not a clue. BUT, then I get stressed that I'm wasting my time not living in the moment. I'm officially a crazy person!

On a positive note, I am really excited about God's plans this semester. In everything I do and am a part of I prayer to remember that it is His. My life isn't something He is included in, He owns it. Nothing is mine.

Truth Behind my Fairytale

After seeing The Holiday yet again I sat in my silent house tonight and realized why I desperately believe in fairytales...these obnoxiously cheesy, yet purely crisp and honest words crossed my mind:

It’s there, in the very moment I let myself be that girl in the movies, the only dialogue a slight English accented whisper, that I can literally feel my heart in my chest. It’s in the pieces of make believe that I feel most at home within myself.

Christmas Time is Here

As soon as we grabbed a cart for some night before Thanksgiving groceries, I thought of my previous post predicting the Freeman household festive day. It wasn't until we got to the back of the store that it made me laugh. I can't believe it took me a month away from home and a short year since our last Thanksgiving to remember that nothing is ever as expected, and that in itself should be expected.

1. Threat of no turkey on Thanksgiving

Mom quickly found the frozen turkey section, but we wanted fresh turkey. Not to worry though, there is always plenty of fresh turkey upon request. I began weaving quickly between browsing, chatting, space prohibiting bodies as I tried to keep sight of the dark-haired woman in a wool sweater on a mission for turkey. When I caught up my mother was hollering hello to a young man behind the meat counter. I got there just in time to see him shake his head in response to her question. No more fresh turkeys.

2. Back-up breakfast

Moving on toward breakfast items, we threw orange rolls in the cart, which are often our holiday treat. Mmm I couldn't wait to wake up and watch the parade while sipping coffee and enjoying a warm roll. Of course I woke up rather to the sounds of Mom's "oh dear..Bruce come look at this". I came downstairs to a scene imagined. I was offered coffee and breakfast was in the oven. But, as we deeply inhaled, the smell of goodness was missing. The expiration date: 2010.

3. 12 delectable rolls..of all shapes and sizes

My time in the kitchen had arrived as I helped my dear mother make rolls. Yet to put on her apron we wore flour instead(and as I later discovered, some dough in my hair). Reaching over each other we used the dough as our clay for craftsmanship.

4. finely chopped celery and onions for the stuffing.

I was then put in charge of chopping celery. Of course I immediately chopped my finger instead, which is when I called in back-up. Dad stood to my left holding my pinky wrapped in towels repeating how crucial it is to apply pressure. His phone rang and he left my side, leaving me with one hand in the air and the other fearlessly chopping, while tears ran down my face caused by staring into the depths of an onion.

5. "I'm thankful for Kathryn because...umm..."

Since our table seated so few this year, we initiated a new tradition. While dads may carve the turkey, moms are in charge of all the Thanksgiving goodness. So my mother stepped up once more and went around the table and said why she was thankful for all of us. She started with me.

In the end, Mom found us turkey, offered cranberry bread for breakfast, remembered the rolls in the oven in the knick of time, took the knife away from me, and kindly fought to find words to describe me. My day began in jeans, transitioned to elastic/stretch, and ended with oversized flannel pants. This indicates that the Freemans pulled off another deliciously traditional Thanksgiving, in a typical untraditional manner.

Christmas Time is (almost) Here

It's starting to get chilly and all of the cafes and bakeries are playing Michael Bublé's holiday specials. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and in my household that officially kicks off the Christmas spirit. The music will resonate through the living room cupboard, Willie Mac will roam the outdoors for thrown out turkey scraps and Teena will follow the perimeter of the counters for the same sort of fallen extras. Mom will undoubtedly slip into Grandma's elegant flower apron while Dad sits on the kitchen floor reading the paper. I'm sure Gramma will still be putting the finishing touches on her pumpkin pies. This year I have been invited into the kitchen. I too will wear an apron and smell for the perfection of the sweet potatoes and stuffing. Happy Thanksgiving.

A Place to Dream

It feels so great to light my candles, get swallowed by the soft glow of lamps, and curl up at my desk. I see blurred outlines in my peripheral, but the clear image in front of me promises to patiently remain a pure white page with one blinking cursor until I decide to fill it with the black letters that are swimming around my mind. For a long time I've wondered why it is that so often when I open my journal or place my fingers on the keyboard I automatically purge feelings about relationships, or truthfully, Chris. For awhile I resented that he filled so many of my recorded memories, but I realized that this sliver of time is when i allow myself to ignore the real world and be true. The real me is a girl that dreams past the stars and the truth is I don't desire reality, because there's always the greatness of what is beyond our realms of comprehension. For awhile Chris was part of my dream. Our future was something that was so close to my finger tips that it made me stand really tall so I could try and reach it. Now, keeping him away forever is a thought that brings the same type of hope. I guess I don't need to apologize for all of this time spent on that single subject. It isn't that I'm caught up in one short breath of time at all, it's that I'm giving myself these few moments to reach for so many more.

Our Friend(ly) Ghost

It remains a surprise to me that the 3 of us didn't wake up in 1 twin bed this morning. After a series of events last night, Rachel established the inevitable conclusion that "the Ark" (our house) has a ghost. We discovered in the same night that Alexis is VERY afraid of any ghostly thoughts. They left me alone so I screamed, which made them scream, which made Alexis run into the desk, which made the grape juice spill, which caused me to run through something wet, which made me scream again because we thought the ghost did it, which ended up with all 3 of us in Alexis' bed. She called a boy, who didn't understand, which was followed by some more screaming as a plastic bag made ghost-like sounds from the fan swooshing by. Once again, homework was put low on the priority list, as my roomies and I moved in a pack for the remainder of the evening.

I'm BACK

Alright here we go. I have spent the last year loving, laughing, crying, worrying, dreaming, texting, calling, and giving into a relationship that left me here. Surprisingly, this is a great place to be. I'll spare you the self-pity moments for now and say that now I cry less than when I was with him. I have had one constant hope since I was dumped via phone call that I have yet to share. My sister told me in the summer that I was gone. The independent, happy, carefree little sister she knew was somewhere lost in a new world of stresses. I stood on my front porch with the phone held to my ear and could only agree. I did nothing about this because I still found myself completely wrapped up in his world. He pushed me out of his world and I didn't want to leave, but I quickly found the exit and realized I was on the other side of the door. I hoped and hoped 3 people in particular could see this. First, my mom. She deserves to have a happy daughter and she alone was enough reason for me to smile and mean it. The second person was my sister. I craved for her to see a better side of her little sister to come back. Hearing those words would reassure me in my weak moments that I'm better now. She brought this subject up last night and that allowed me to see him today and honestly tell him I'm loving life. Of course I must include Rachel. I can be a real friend to her now. I don't have to ask her to understand why I'm leaving every time I walk out the door and I don't have to fill her time with pointless boy stories. I get to make girly memories without a hint of Chris for the first time since I've been at Truman. I'm starting over and God has answered years of prayer. He has ripped another guy out of my life and didn't make me be the one to make the decision to say goodbye.